Stop and Stare (Part 19)

What's happened in this novel so far:

Spoiler

Austin, Charlie Black's friend, is responsible for accidentally stabbing and killing Aimee Cardle. A few weeks had passed after the stabbing when the boys met Zoey Cardle and her best friend, Beth. Aimee Cardle was Zoey's sister. Zoey, Austin and Charlie met up again some time later, and Charlie is now going to be homeschooled by Zoey's mum, Sophie.

Zoey, Austin, Beth, Jade (another friend), and William, were on their way to buy some food when Zoey got lost in the forest. Charlie found her, then took her to the cliff-side near the forest. There, they kissed. This resulted in Zoey telling Charlie about her sister's death, and Charlie realised that the girl Austin killed was Aimee Cardle. Charlie then ran off after cruelly telling Zoey that he wasn't interested in her.

Zoey

I woke to the sound of hasty chattering downstairs, and as my eyelids fluttered open, I could see that the sun was peeking through the gaps in-between my blinds. I sat up on my bed. Unusually, I’d fallen asleep mid-afternoon, and the moment I squinted to look at my clock, I cursed to myself. It was twenty-six minutes passed five, so I’d been asleep for over four hours. That was going to completely disrupt my sleeping schedule tonight.
As I dragged myself out of the comfort of my bed, I let out a sigh. I felt like a fool for doing so, but I couldn’t let my mind free itself from thoughts of yesterday’s events. None of it made any sense, and no matter how much I tried to untie the memories from my head, I couldn’t understand why Charlie had behaved like he had. I knew it was nonsensical, but I was deeply hoping that none of what he said meant anything, and that the words he spoke had been limp of meaning. I sighed as I left my room. What did it matter anyway? Even if he didn’t mean what he said, he’d still said it, and that was hurtful enough. I never should have told him about Aimee.
I made my way down the stairs, being sure to go down the steps two-by-two as usual, and by the time I’d reached the bottom, the voices had become clearer. They were coming from my living room. When I entered the room, I was surprised and slightly confused to see a man dressed in a suit and tie sitting on my sofa. Beside him was my dad, and mumbling to himself on the coffee table was Luke.
“Yeah, the sooner, the better. Someone must have seen something, so I’ll begin by questioning the residents of the street itself. Just basic procedure really.” The unknown man was speaking, but when he spotted me at the doorway, he turned silent.
“Hey, darling,” my dad said, smiling.
“Um, hey, dad...” I spoke slowly. “Who’s...?”
“Aaron Carter,” the smartly dressed man answered, clearly aware that I was speaking about him. He glanced at my dad, and then my dad nodded in some sort of approval. “I work as a private detective, and I’m here to help with the investigation into Aimee’s death.”
Oh, no. He hasn’t? My dad had mentioned his plans of hiring a private detective numerous times by now, but I never thought he’d actually go ahead with it. I gazed at Aaron Carter. I could see by the lack of dents in his face that he was a very young man. His hair was a copper colour that was brushed off his face, and underneath a pair of dark eyebrows were equally dark eyes that appeared to somehow be smiling at me. I wasn’t sure what I’d expected a private detective to look like, but I knew that it wasn’t like this. I suppose I’d always imagined them to be far more mature in age than this man seemed to be.
“Uh, hello. I’m Zoey,” I finally replied to the man.
“Ahhh, the youngest daughter?” he responded, which followed by a nod from me.
I turned my eyes back towards my dad to see a broad grin spread across his face, and my stomach churned. It wasn’t that I didn’t want Aimee’s murderer to be caught--that was what I wanted more than anything--but it was as though bringing a private detective into it all made the whole thing feel so much more, well, flashy, than I wanted it to be. It just reminded me of the whole ordeal.
“I’ve done a lot of research.” My dad started speaking again as he reached beside him to pick up an enormous pile of papers and files. Oh, no. “I thought this may come in handy for you. There are statistics for things like the amount of knife crime in that area, but I’m sure you can get hold of information like that yourself. There are also some theories that I’ve come up with myself. You know, just some guesses on what could have happened and that kind of thing.”
My dad handed Mr. Carter the documents as the detective thanked him. I glanced at Luke to see him rolling his eyes. He was still muttering under his breath. At least I wasn’t the only one who thought this was ridiculous. When Luke caught my gaze, he turned away and stood up. My dad continued chatting with the detective as my brother wandered towards the doorway.
“This is pointless. They’re never going to find who did it,” I heard Luke utter as he nudged passed me and out of the room.
I wasn’t sure if he’d said it to me or himself, but I’d certainly heard it. As much as I despised admitting it, I thought Luke was right. It had been a while, and what felt like years now, since the incident, and the police didn’t even have any leads. What could this man have possibly done to help with such little evidence?
Once Luke had gone, I watched as my dad spoke to Mr. Carter with utter enthusiasm, and the longer I stayed in the doorway, the drier my throat became. My dad was bobbing his head as he spoke, pointing manically over the pieces of paper he’d given the detective. I couldn’t remember the last time we’d done anything as a family because my dad was constantly glued to the screen of his laptop, and my mum didn’t even speak about family outings anymore. It was as if now Aimee was gone, the word family to us was worth as much as a dead leaf falling from the branch of a newly blooming tree.
“Yes, the puncture was in the stomach, therefore, you’d assume that there must have been some sort of struggle, right? Whoever hurt her couldn’t have done it by surprise, I mean, because she would have seen him if he came at her from the front. The problem is that there were no bruises on her arms or anything, so a struggle actually seems unlikely. Here’s one of my theories: Aimee’s killer was someone she knew.” My dad started tapping his hands together. “There was no struggle, she would have seen whoever killed her, and my little girl wouldn’t have been foolish enough to be around people she didn’t know, so her murderer must have known her in some way. I have plenty of other theories though, if you’d like to hear them.”
I couldn’t listen to this anymore. The way he was speaking made it feel like he was taking part in one giant game of Cluedo, and if this carried on, that was what this entire thing would feel like to me: a game. How many theories did he have, and how many guesses had he made about what had happened? As my dad rambled on about some other theory, I turned on my heel and was soon out of the room. I knew he was only doing this because he cared about Aimee with such passion, but this was becoming unreal now. He had an endless collection of documents that had anything to do with stabbing, he had plenty of ridiculous theories, by the sound of it, and it was as though his mind was only programmed to include thoughts of Aimee and her killer. Didn’t he realise that this was only making him feel worse? I mean, constantly thinking about something like that couldn’t be healthy.
When I entered the kitchen, I instantly turned to the back door that led to the garden. I needed some fresh air. I whipped my fringe off my face as I slid past the wooden table that stood in the centre of the room. My heart was still hasty when I reached the glass door that was placed a few inches away from the fridge. With a quick flick of my wrist, I’d lowered the door handle and I was standing outside. The rain had ceased completely from the light drizzle that occurred yesterday, and there was nothing but enchanting sunshine beaming onto this part of the country today. It seemed to instantly soothe me, even if it only did so by a small bit. I took in a deep breath before exhaling slowly.
My back garden consisted of one rather large patch of grass as well as a decent sized patio area that was attached to the house, but other than that, there wasn’t much to it besides a table and chairs on the patio and a couple of flower beds dotted around. No one had bothered to do much to this place in over a month. My eyes scanned the limp flowers that looked as though they were leaning on the wooden fence of my garden for support, and I started strolling along the patio. As I wandered though, something began taking over my concentration. It was a noise, something that actually put my mind at ease far better than the sunshine did. I didn’t take much notice of it at first, but the further down my patio I strolled, the louder it became. It didn’t take me long to realise that it was some kind of melody I was hearing. My mum must have been sitting at the patio table with her guitar or something, and I eventually found myself humming along to the unknown tune I found shockingly relaxing.
Without any kind of warning, the soft melody came to a sudden halt. For the first time since I’d actually been out here, I looked over to where the metal table and chairs were on my patio, and when I did, I froze. It wasn’t my mum playing the guitar. I didn’t even have to think about turning around because in the matter of seconds, I had done so. There was the sound of a chair screeching across concrete, then thundering footsteps chased behind me.
“Zoey! Wait!”
I wasn’t sure why I did, but when I heard Charlie’s voice, I paused, mid-walk. Before long, I had turned around to see him standing in front of me with a pleading expression on his face. He had his guitar hanging from his shoulder by a thin piece of string, and I must admit that it wasn’t the prettiest of musical instruments in the world. The wood had been chipped in many places and it was covered in what looked like felt-tip pen and stickers. I suddenly remembered: he was here for a lesson, wasn’t he? Why didn’t I blooming think of that?
“Look, I’m sorry about all of that crap I said yesterday,” he said with a sigh.
“You can’t be that sorry,” I muttered. “Why did you say it?”
“Because I screw everything up. I did tell you that, remember?”
I didn’t say anything for a while, and he didn’t appear desperate to do much either. It was strange how sometimes a person never even acknowledged their heartbeat, but at other times, it was all they could feel or hear. Like now, for instance. I couldn’t hear a thing over the thundering in my chest. I turned my eyes back to Charlie's face. It didn’t matter what rubbish spilled out of his mouth because it didn’t take back what he’d said yesterday.
“I should have listened to you, shouldn’t I?”
“Zoey, I really am sorry. Please, just hear me out. I just... I was a bit confused, and I wasn’t thinking straight.” He began fingering the strings of his guitar, but his eyes stayed on me. “I like you. You have all these weird habits, you get worked up about tiny things, and you seem to use my jacket more than I do, but I guess that’s why I like you.” He stopped fiddling with his guitar. “I guess I was just shocked about your... about your sister, especially after we got so close on the cliff.”
I wanted to turn away. I knew I should have done that and told him where to stuff it, but every feature on his pretty face was forcing me to keep my gaze locked on him, and when I concentrated on his eyes, there was no hope of me even moving. I’d gone on and on about how Beth made stupid decisions with her boyfriends, but standing here now with Charlie was making me begin to realise why Beth found it so hard to do the sensible option all the time. What was the sensible thing to do? A subtle breeze flew past, resulting in me tucking some of my hair behind one of my ears, but the daunting sound of silence remained upon us.
“What can I say or do to make you not hate me so much?”
I lowered my head. I didn’t hate him, I was just frustrated that he’d ditched and offended me after kissing me minutes earlier. When I straightened my neck back up though, I noticed a small smile on Charlie’s face. Without him saying anything, his fingers began dancing over the guitar strings, and rather bizarrely, he was soon reciting I’m Sorry by Brenda Lee. “I’m sorry, so sorry, that I was such a fool. I didn’t know love could be so cruel. You tell me mistakes are...” He paused. “Something of something young, and now I don’t know the words...”
I wedged a few laughs down my throat in an attempt not to express them. I was supposed to be angry at him, so laughing would have hardly shown that. I tried to keep my eyes narrowed and my face hard, but as he continued singing in a melodramatic tone, doing that became a lot easier said than done. Charlie paused again, but this time for longer. His smile broadened even further, and when he started strumming again, it began to physically hurt to keep the laughs down. I knew for a fact that there must have been a blatant grin on my face.
“Never gonna give you up, never gonna let you down, never gonna run around and desert you! Never gonna make you cry, never gonna say goodbye, never gonna tell a lie--”
“Okay, shut up!” I nudged him hard, and as I spoke, the laughs that had been trying to barge out of my mouth escaped.
He instantly began singing again. “Shut up, just shut up, shut up. Shut up, just shut up, shut up. Shut it up, just shut up, shut up. Shut up, just shut up, shut up.”
“Stop! I’m supposed to be mad at you!” I snapped.
“That’s probably a good call actually. I hate the Black Eyed Peas.”
By the time he started laughing, any attempt of me being mad at him fell flat. Whether that was a good or a bad thing, I wasn't sure. After finishing his colourful form of singing, Charlie delved his hands into his pockets while his guitar continued to hang loosely off his shoulder. He still had a smile on his face, but this one was tinted with intentness.



Click here to read STOP AND STARE(PART TWENTY)

I love how Zoey's dad is coping with Aimee's death. A lot of the time where I read about somebody getting killed in a book and then it has their parent's reactions, it's a bit of boo-hoo at the funeral and that's it. I think how you're having him deal with it is quite original. It seems to have changed him quite a bit. I think this is pretty realistic, too, because it's a lot like how I reacted when something similar happened to me quite a few years ago.
One thing I noticed, though, and correct me if I'm just being stupid and not noticing something like I was last time, but Charlie seems to be in Zoey's back garden playing his guitar, which is slightly strange. It might make more sense if it was in her front garden.
"It was strange how sometimes a person never even acknowledged their heartbeat, but at other times, it was all they could feel or hear." I think this sentence would flow a bit better if you changed it so it said:
"It's strange how sometimes a person never even acknowledges their heartbeat, but at other times, it's all they can feel or hear." No offence, but in my opinion, the first sentence sounds a little bit pasted together, if you know what I mean. I think the second one sounds a bit smoother.
Your description has consistently been very good throughout the novel (God, I sound like a teacher...). I can relate pretty much everywhere in this book to somewhere in Portsmouth; for example, the park where Aimee gets stabbed is like the park at the end of my friend's road near my school, and the beach is, well, the beach. :3
Great chapter. Charlie seems to be one of those people you can't stay angry with. xD

Smurfy!

You shouldn't apologise for posting more of this. You're helping to feed my addiction!

been limp of meaning.

I can't decide whether 'been of limp meaning' would sound better or not.

slid passed the wooden

'passed' should be 'past'

A subtle breeze flew passed

Again, 'passed' should be 'past'

'Past' is used when you describe movement that involves passing or going beyond somebody or something. Or in a sentence like this - 'She walked right past us with even looking.'

'Passed' is used like this - 'Dark clouds passed over head.' or 'I passed him a slice of cake.'

So, I didn't just steal the examples from the dictionary But I guess it's hard to explain. I've only just stopped getting the uses mixed up, myself.

***

Aww, I'm so glad Charlie and Zoey made up. I was rooting for them the whole way through that scene, and having Charlie sing to her was not only romantic, but great because it reminded the reader about his love of music.

I think this part was brilliantly written. The scene with her dad and the PI was well thought out and I could really picture how obsessed her dad was with getting all of his thoughts and theories over to the PI. I thought Zoey's reaction to it was believable too. The way she was worried about how concentrated her dad was on the whole thing, and likening it to a game of Cluedo was goo imagery too.

You did mention the word 'patio' a lot during the garden scene, but I guess it's hard, having so little ways to describe a patio. It's not that big a deal, I guess.

Yeah, so I'm sorry for not being much help here, but I really enjoyed reading this part. Keep up the awesome writing, Smurf!

Anna

Love, love LOVE!

One rather huge nitpick, though.

Lyrics to a song are copyrighted. I'm trying to find the article that I posted on my sister's story, with no such luck so far. Which means, you can't put up the lyrics. Some instances, the companies wouldn't sue you, others they would.

Maybe you could ask Nate about it, he might be more up to date about this. The article I read is a couple years old, bu Writer's Digest magazine.

Skinsy, I really loved this. It was beautiful and sweet and poignant how they made up. Charlie is a goof ball, which is an interesting side of him. One I'd like to explore more. You've done a great job with this chapter.

Keep it up, k?

Tanya and Liam <3

Edit: found what I was looking for. My sister had put up the lyrics to a Linkin Park song...

Spoiler

Can I Use Song Lyrics in my Manuscript?

Q: What are the legal ramifications of reproducing song lyrics in a manuscript? If permission from each copyright holder is necessary, what’s the best way to secure these permissions? Also, can I use a song title as the title of my book?—June Youngblood

A: Song lyrics are copyrighted, which means you need permission to use them. According to our legal expert Amy Cook, there isn’t any specific law about how much you can take under fair use, but it’s common for the music industry to say you need permission for even one line of a song.

“The music industry is pretty vigilant about song lyrics,” Cook says. “This is especially true if you’re using the lyrics in a novel to progress the story or add atmosphere. If you’re a music critic reviewing a CD, you have more leeway under fair use.”

One way you can check to see if the song is still under copyright protection is to visit http://www.copyright.gov. This online site lists all copyright records dating back to 1978. For anything before that, you’ll need to contact the U.S. Copyright Office and may have to pay to have the records checked for you.

Another way to find the owner of the copyrights is to contact the American Society of Composers, Authors and Publishers (ASCAP) or Broadcast Music, Inc. (BMI). These two major music performance rights organizations don’t grant permission, but they can help you find the publisher of the song you’re looking to use.

Once you find the rights owner, you must ask for his permission. He could offer you the rights for free, completely deny you the rights or ask you to rename your dog after him. The price is completely up to the music publisher.

“As a practical matter, you don’t need to worry about getting permissions until your work is going to be published,” Cook says. “And your publisher may help you in securing permissions. Most publishers provide their authors with their permission guidelines and forms.”

As for song titles, however, titles of any kind (book, song) aren’t copyrightable. But they occasionally can be subject to trademark or unfair competition laws.

“If you used a really famous song title or part of a song as a title —say, ‘Yellow Submarine’— that’s so closely tied to a specific group (or artists), then you’d probably get a letter from their lawyers,” Cook says.

Edit Part two: after seeing the scene with her dad, I don't wonder who Zoey got her OCD from lol

Just on a first note, look how small my review is today. I blame you for this! It's only pink and prissy with fan-girl talking all the way through; not grey and dull like a reviewing message should be! Why do you do this to me, Skins? Why?! Why must you make me dress in pink, hula skirts to review your stories?!

Chugging onto the review...One word: hilarious!

I was laughing my face off so hard at the singing part that my teacher came around and confiscated my laptop. That is why my dear Skins I didn't get to review this earlier. This has to be one of my most favourite chapters yet, everything in it was just so planned out and, well, brilliant! The father's reaction: perfect. Ok, I am going to admit, I haven't really read the first chapters so I don't know Zoey's fathers personality (though I do know Charlies'). Don't worry, they're on my agenda, but first I have finish off my stupid assignments. Then I plan to print them all out like a novel and read from scratch to the end. You know what, I think I'll do that now.

(Half an hour later)

That is a lot of papers, and I have only done the first few chapters...Mum is going to kill me! Anyway, so the Dad's reaction was possibly the best I've ever seen. Instead of just being sad for one minute at the funeral like the first reviewer mentioned, you're delivering that key emotion all the way through to make up his character. In fact, Zoey's father reminded me oddly of what my father would do if I was killed. He'd probably try to get the whole army involved, and I'd suspect him to!

Once again there were no problems I could pick up on. Not anything! At first I was leering over my computer screen with my tongue poking out of my mouth ready to slap down any problem like squashing a fly in my bathroom. I am very good at catching flies in my bathroom. Although, when I started reading and reading, I didn't find a single problem. Nope, not even grammar, but I was always terrible at grammar. So instead of doing a victorious dance because I had found something to make me look like a good reviewer, I found ziltch. Nista. Nothing.

It wouldn't have killed you to leave me something. Also, I should mention that, again, you're safe from Home and Away. And I think that it's getting angry. The CD case has grown bushy eyebrows and it looks like it's frowning. Something tells me there is more to Home and Away then a corny love story. I believe it to be: black magic! Your characters were perfect again. I love Charlie and when he started to sing, I can't stress that enough. After that, I was singing the first song you mentioned all day. I forgot its name. Even Zoey is becoming more tolerable, which is good. My God, if you don't tell me about the next chapter, I will be catching a taxi and a plane to Wales and guess what's coming with me? Yep, the frowning CD case of Home and Away. Be frightened because it just sprouted jaws! On a score from one to ten, this was definitely one hundred billion!

-Apple.

For more fan girl squealing just dial the number on the screen. Remember, a day without a fan girl will be your last!

Hey, Skins.

As I have said earlier also, I won't review the whole thing and in detail, but would just leave my thoughts right after two-three chapters.

I would have to seriously commend on the way you've brought across the topic of how the dad is coping with the grief, like Sandvich mentioned. Mostly you see people going into bouts of depressions or acting too joyful, which I think is rare, but you get it, right? But he has become too determined to find the killer and punish them, and which is actually not healthy for him, so I like this view. Unique and like your writing, creative.

There's this one thing I'd like to talk about even though it's really minor. Trust me on this, really minor. It might not even be a big thing. Opposing to your writing style, somewhere in between the chapter I got the feeling that you were maybe trying too hard at descriptions, perhaps. As I said, I might be wrong. Like when you go and describe the patio thing, I just feel it's a bit more showy than telly. But don't worry about it an inch. I've always sort of not been a fan of descriptions of places, so it's basically my view rather than a serious problem.

You might as well overlook the above passage.

You have all these weird habits, you get worked up about tiny things, and you seem to use my jacket more than I do, but I guess that’s why I like you.”

Serious lol for that, dude.


Alright, so I have another thing to tell you,which I have actually told a lot of times and you are getting it done. Like, I don't expect you to make Zoey cry over her sister's death continuously, but I was actually thinking that you could have more of their memories. Like, I have been reading this book My Sister's Keeper and in that they have many flashbacks to build the sisters' relationships. Since the story didn't go right from their birth, they had to bring in flashbacks. Because she has to explain their relationship and since she can't be straight or talk about it in present form, she can have it in flashbacks. So in your case since Aimee dies before much happens so you also have to bring in more stuff about her in form of memories, flashbacks, or stuff. I don't want you to go according to Jodi's writing style, but you would have to consider Aimee as a character. So if she's not physically present make her mentally present in readers' mind. I hope you get it.

Also, coming to that, I think that's what maybe the entire novel is lacking of. Seriously, everything is good in it, maybe you over-write sometimes, but it's just your writing style, so I'm no one to comment on it, but you should maybe focus on this aspect too. You are not really making me feel their loss. I know for a fact there's a loss, since that's common sense for you, but I can't really feel or imagine myself in such situations. I could do it only in her father's case so his reaction seems more genuine.


Other than that, bravo is all I can say. You've made this chapter really a touching thing and the last chapter was also fabulous. And as to your question in the previous chappie, I don't think personally that Zoey was really fast at spilling the truth about her sister. I think when you love someone or become close to them, you'd like them to know about you and understand your emotions and that's what happened with Zoey. It didn't strike me a bit odd.

I like Charlie singing on the guitar. I really do. It was actually funny the way he behaved and so romantic. Also, I've never seen him such bright spirits so that's an excellent thing, I guess. Zoey and Charlie are like remedy for each other. Aren't they?


Anyways, good read and really thanks for it. Keep Writing,
Mia

Heyo Skinsy! Here for a review!

All right. You really don't give me a lot to work with every chapter and I feel like my reviews aren't that much help. Gah. Let's see what I can do.

The first thing I want to mention is your detective's name -- as soon as I saw Aaron Carter, I thought of...well, Aaron Carter, like this:

Spoiler

And I just think it's something that kind of takes away from the seriousness of the story right now. It's distracting, I guess. But it's not a huge deal, so definitely not something to worry too much about.

The dad kind of bothered me. I totally understand that he wants to find out who killed his daughter and it's fine that he's done the research -- he just seems oddly...excited about it all. I'd expect to see more of a quiet, pensive mood, and that when he talks about Aimee he seems sad, or at least sadder than he's appearing right now. That's not to say that I think he should be in tears every time he talks about her; you definitely don't want to go overboard with the dramatics. That grief does eventually tone down to something mellower, but I just think that he's a little too peppy-sounding, considering the fact that his child is dead.

I've got to say that the whole scene where Charlie sings to Zoey was so sweet; I normally don't like the cute little romances, but this part here was making me feel all happy and smiley. You've made Charlie such a lovable guy, and I like how real you've kept both him and Zoey throughout this whole time.

All right, that's all I've got to say for this chapter. Excellent as always, and now I'm onto the next one.

Later,
~Hawk